


An Exercise in Wish Fulfillment

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [63]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, Mind Palace, Reminiscing, Repressed Memories, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:51:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: Describe your perfect Sunday. -JM





	

**Author's Note:**

> Back to my prompt-a-thon for a moment while I'm finishing up my challenge. My mind is all over the place lately, but it will all get done! Prompt 29: Happiness

**Describe your perfect Sunday. -JM**

 

The text sat on Sherlock’s mobile, unopened. Short enough that it read out on the lock screen in its entirety. Initially he’d scoffed — what a ridiculous question. There weren’t “perfect” days, thus it was probably one of those stupid flirty questions. Jim was supposed to be above that.

 

**Does it matter if it’s a Sunday? -SH**

 

Chastising him for being “cutesy” would come later. Curiosity first.

 

**Traditionally the lazier day of the week. No large plans, but I’m open to suggestion. -JM**

 

Still seemed rather typical couple-stuff, but now it was a thought experiment. What _would_ constitute an almost perfect day, barring some large disaster? Start with the beginning — an obvious narrative choice, but he couldn’t get ahead of himself, thousands of ideas already racing through his mind. But they all took place around _noon_.

 

**I imagine it’d start with me being well-rested, or still awake from the previous night, high on a case. -SH**

 

**Glad that’s the only thing you’d be high on. -JM**

**But let’s focus on the first scenario. You wake up well-rested. Then what? -JM**

 

Of course that couldn’t escape without comment: Jim was a large supporter of Sherlock’s sobriety. So much so his support was almost annoying. But the constant reminder that it was there, unbudging, yet unyielding.

But… _then_ what? Even Sherlock didn’t know.

 

**Why? -SH**

 

**Curious. For the man who needs nothing, who believes in no perfection… -JM**

**What is your personal utopia? Does one exist? JM**

 

**By definition, a utopia cannot exist. -SH**

 

 _Poor choice of words, Jim_. Sherlock grinned, a little pleased with himself. His criminal lover, less so:

 

**Ha. Ha. -JM**

**Getting impatient for an answer. -JM**

 

**Ideally… I suppose I’d wake up with you. -SH**

 

**Naughty. -JM**

 

**No, no. -SH**

**I mean, perhaps far later. But I’d rather it be chaste for a while. -SH**

 

The detective didn’t _hate_ sex, even enjoyed it with Jim in ways he hadn’t with others. But the physical act of it was a distraction, and the resulting pleasure was a treat. He saw it much in the same way that a normal person would put off dessert until after the meal — important calories, nutrients, etc., were comparable to intellectual pursuit, and had to be put first if they were going to get done at all.

Constantly stuffing one’s face with trifle would be nice, but ultimately worked against him.

 

**Fair enough. Continue. -JM**

 

**I haven’t really thought about it in my conscious hours. -SH**

 

**Most haven’t, but when prompted, ideas surface. -JM**

 

Sherlock chews his lip, his days weren’t generally _planned,_ it was hard to construct one from scratch.

 

**Tea. -SH**

 

**That’s a noun, not an answer. -JM**

 

**Yes it is. -SH**

**It’s also a good way to start the day. -SH**

 

Several minutes. No response. Ah. Jim was waiting for him to keep going without prompt. Perhaps he was after a long, detailed schedule? Well… disappointing the criminal was an often fatal offense.

 

**I’d like to stay in bed a while, read up on a skill I don’t yet have. -SH**

**Then leave bed to practice it. -SH**

 

**Would you still want me there? -JM**

 

**Of course. -SH**

**Unless you weren’t amenable to whatever I chose… but I might take your preferences into mind. -SH**

 

**What a gentleman. -JM**

**Alas, I would deal with whatever you organically decided. Part of your charm is your endless pursuit of what *you* want to do. -JM**

 

**That would take up a few hours. -SH**

**Lunch, if I were hungry, and certain I wouldn’t be running around for a case. -SH**

 

**For the purposes of this scenario, it’s an utterly boring day other than your plans. -JM**

 

**Alright. Lunch then. -SH**

 

**From where? -JM**

 

**Wherever didn’t require me having to leave the house or get dressed. -SH**

 

**Take away, then. Noted. -JM**

 

**Share the meal. Discuss things organically as they arose. -SH**

**I can’t plan every little detail. That would get boring rather quickly. -SH**

 

**Of course. Any further conclusions? -JM**

 

**Maybe there would be a dog. -SH**

 

**Any kind? -JM**

 

**A playful one. -SH**

 

**Dinner, or will you not be hungry after lunch? -JM**

 

**Possibly, but dessert would be welcome. -SH**

 

**Chocolate digestives? -JM**

 

**Perfect. -SH**

 

**Well, this has been informative. Thank you for indulging me. -JM**

 

**Isn’t tomorrow Sunday? -SH**

 

**Funny coincidence, I’m sure. -JM**

**Sleep well tonight, won’t you? -JM**

 

**Plans tomorrow? -SH**

 

**Not saying a word, my dear. -JM**

 

Heading a suggestion for once, Sherlock finds himself in bed by 11pm.

 

* * *

 

When he woke, Jim was there, curled up at his side, a fully stocked tea tray on the bedside table, cups still steaming.

“A perfect start to the day.” Sherlock remarked, eyes still clouded with sleep, opting to snuggle in a moment longer. Jim didn’t mind, leg hooking around his hip.

“I’ve been thinking…” Sherlock began, unable to help but kiss his lips, several times, before continuing, “Is this about my birthday? Because that’s next month.”

“I know.” Jim shares a similar compulsion, kissing him back between words, “But I won’t be able to be there for it, day of.” An unspoken, _for as long as our relationship stays a secret_ followed. Sherlock could hear it, but there was little to be done besides accept it.

“Alright.” He nodded, curls ground into the pillow, “I’ll allow it, then.”

“Thank you for indulging me.” Jim smiled wide, “Happy birthday, Sherlock.” Then he sat up, stretching out his arms, displaying such lovely, uncovered flesh, all of his precious suit discarded since he climbed into the covers, “I’ve got a few books on coding a smart mirror in Python — I don’t think you’ve done _that_ before, have you?”

Sherlock nearly _giggles_ in delight, “Never.”

 

* * *

 

“Err… Sherlock?” John asks, waving his hand sheepishly at his daydreaming companion, having been several minutes since the detective showed any outside response.

“Hm?” The detective tilts his head, so easily forgetting the purpose for going to the often-neglected room in his mind palace. _Neglected for a reason,_ he has to keep reminding himself.

The doctor pauses, his high held belief that Sherlock’s memory was infallible now up for debate, “My question?” _Are you feeling alright?_

“Oh, yes… the happiest I’ve ever been, you said?” Sherlock repeats, remembering that the memory was now _years_ old. The last of the light from that day, the ghost of Jim, the memory of a german shepherd bounding across an expanse of grass, leaving his eyes as he shut the door, considering slapping a padlock on it for good measure.

He should really smash that mirror.

Bitterly, he replies, “I don’t feel such trivial things.”


End file.
